


The Rules of the Game

by OhMyViolet



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Based around the events of the Broken Ghost quest, Crying, Graphic Description, Hurt No Comfort, Loss, M/M, Pain, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMyViolet/pseuds/OhMyViolet
Summary: Lifeline and Gibraltar were unsuccessful in their search for Octane in the Shadow Dimension. Now, with the group split apart with suspicions, Mirage must take it upon himself to search for and rescue him. Though, what he finds might be more than he can bear.
Relationships: Mirage | Elliott Witt/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	The Rules of the Game

**Author's Note:**

> Have you read the tags first?

It had been almost a week, maybe a week and a half he wasn’t sure. Time seemed to blur together these days. All Elliott knew was Octavio had been gone for far too long, and he’d barely slept the whole time. Everyone else seemed to have moved on already, and maybe he would have too if the circumstances were different, and it was some other member of the team gone. But it wasn’t someone else. It was Octavio. _His_ Octavio. Ajay and Gibraltar had come back with a piece of the artifact and nothing else, informing the group that they couldn’t find him. They’d found jump pads, a lot of jump pads, but there was no sign of their owner. Another search party was scheduled to be sent, but everyone had become distracted with blaming Crypto for spilling the details of their private meetings to Revenant. The search party was forgotten about then, and Elliott was told whoever went in next would “keep an eye out”. He wanted to go in himself, but one: he wasn’t allowed, sergeant’s orders, and two: well...he was afraid of what he might find; or in this case...not find. He heard Anita whisper the letters “MIA” to Wraith and he wanted to scream. No matter what, those bastard letters always seemed to come back to haunt him. It didn’t seem like the rest of the group cared too much, as everyone’s focus was still on collecting the last remaining pieces of the artifact. However, with the hacking of Crypto’s drone, it meant people were now suspicious of one another and were going their separate ways to try and finish this thing, once and for all. That’s how Elliott found himself back in the other King’s Canyon, with no one but his decoys for backup. At least...that’s what he thought. 

Maybe his aim was off that day, or maybe he’d taken the worst possible route this time; he doesn’t remember being swarmed like this during any of the other missions. The trickster couldn’t stop to look behind him to count exactly how many prowlers there were. Despite the burning in his glutes, he had to keep running; if he stopped, he was a dead man. The sound of huge paws in pursuit echoed the hammering of his own heart in his ears. He had to keep going. He had to.   
“Shit!” he swore, as soon as he managed to trip over an old tree root, sending him and his Wingman tumbling to the ground. He flipped himself onto his back, just in time to see the hoard of prowlers approaching at speed. Elliott’s head whipped from side to side in panic, but his only weapon was now far out of his reach, and probably submerged in some murky puddle by now. Time seemed to slow down and he was unable to force himself to stand, despite the group of prowlers rapidly approaching. Maybe he should just let them have him. Leaving here alive meant returning to a life without Octavio, and he didn’t think that was a life he could bear. That’s when he saw it; A dark shadow moved past him in a flash, leaping onto the roof of a nearby building, reaching inhuman heights. He opened his mouth to yell but nothing came out. All he could do was watch, with fear stricken eyes, as this dark figure dived from it’s perch to confront the herd, stopping them in their tracks. Elliott’s fingers curled into the damp soil underneath him, beginning to back away slowly as a large prowler stepped forward, assessing his shadowy saviour, but they weren’t having any of it. All it took was a few quick swipes to the packs’ snouts and a threatening hiss to make the herd slink away, back into the darkness. 

Elliott swallowed thickly, finally managing to get to his feet, keeping his eyes fixed in the stranger shadow who still had their back to him. Was he next? It was only now that he managed to straighten himself up, and his heart was returning to a more normal rhythm, did his stomach drop. It wasn’t a stranger who had come to his aid. It was someone he knew like the back of his hand. The one person he had been so desperate to find but...not like this. He let out a shaky breath, taking a tentative step forward.  
“Tav? Octavio? Babe...is that...is that you?”   
They bristled, but didn't move when he came closer. Elliott could feel his breath catch in the back of his throat, forming a lump as he took in the sight before him. The person he'd known as his lover was now barely recognisable; his skin and clothes were the colour of the night itself, with flecks of orange and yellow that appeared like they might combust at any moment. The lenses of his goggles burned like fire, and looked like they were no longer an accessory but an immovable part of his face.   
"B-baby?" Elliott whispered, tentatively reaching out to him. "What...what happened?"   
Octavio didn't answer, but it didn't seem like he was capable of it even if he wanted to speak. He hung his head, his shoulders heaving like he was struggling to breathe.   
"Tav?" the trickster persisted, moving closer. "Tav...it's me. Elliott. Can...can you hear me?"   
He reached out, placing his hand on the runner's bicep, finding himself stricken by how cold he felt; like ice.   
"We need to get out of here, Tav. The ship isn't too far. Come on, we'll...we'll...we'll go home and find a way to...to make you better."   
He was met by a quiet grunt and a strong resistance, when he tried to tug him in the direction of their escape.   
"Octavio! Come on!" Elliott pleaded. "We need to go home!" 

He tried again to get a hold on his arm but Octavio jerked away. His amber goggles seemed to glance towards the ship waiting in the distance, and he shoved Elliott back in its direction, hard enough to almost make him topple over. His fingers came to dig into his skull cap, gripping it tightly as he frantically shook his head and doubled over, as if he was harshly conflicting with something on the inside. Elliott tried to reason with him again, but before he could get his words out, the shadow runner was gone; leaping onto a nearby building, quickly jumping to another and disappearing, out of sight. Elliott was confused. Why was Octavio acting like this? He looked between the ship and the building his partner had disappeared into. He had to follow him. He couldn't leave him here, like this. He sent out a decoy to distract any prowlers that might try and follow him, hoping they'd take the bait. Elliott peered in through the window of the rundown building, to see if anything murderous was waiting for him before stepping inside. There was no sign of Octavio anywhere, only a lone totem; almost identical to the ones he'd seen Revenant use in the arena. He'd always found those things creepy and was too afraid to ask where they came from. This one however, felt different, almost like it was calling out to him. That's when it hit him. Maybe this totem was what was making Octavio like this! If he destroyed it...he'd have his boyfriend back. Right? His first instinct was to shoot at it, since that's how they dealt with these things in the games but the bullets seemed to bounce right off. He tried punching it, kicking it and even went outside to find a large rock to try and smash it with, but nothing worked. Elliott could still feel that nagging feeling of being called, right in his chest. It was stupid, he knew this, but before he could think about it anymore, both of his hands where on either side of the totem, it's red glow seeping out between his fingers. His fingers began to tingle, a jolt almost like a burning electricity forcing its way up his arms and away from the totem. Despite the short burst of pain, he couldn't help but feel triumphant as it fell before him and disappeared. He'd done it. Or at least...he thought he did, until he went outside and saw a bright beam of orange light shooting up into the sky. Hmm. Maybe this was going to be harder than he thought. 

* * *

"Okay," he breathed, trying to ignore the strange tingling in his fingers that was slowly creeping up his arm, making his elbows feel funny. "I think that's the last one."   
Elliott couldn't tell how long he'd been chasing these damn totems around. Each time, it would only respond to his touch and every time he was given that unpleasant surge of pain. But it would be worth it, if it worked. He scanned the sky multiple times to make sure no more bursts of light had manifested. Now all he had to do was find Octavio. He searched the area for some time, managing to avoid any prowlers, eventually finding him standing on a raised patch of grass, his gaze also fixed on the darkness above their heads, involuntarily flexing his fingers. The orange and yellow flecks in his skin seemed to spread outwards, surrounding him in an aura so bright Elliott was forced to shield his eyes against it. When he was finally able to look again, his heart almost burst with joy. There stood the love of his life, as he had known him, no longer taking the appearance of his shadow self. Elliott rushed towards him, arms outstretched, preparing to embrace his love but paused, skidding in the dirt when he noticed Octavio was holding a hand up to stop him. 

Everything after that seemed to happen so fast. The runner was clawing at his mask, desperate to get it away from his face, before dropping to the ground, his body heaving as he chucked up a substance the colour of tar; his lungs burning as he spluttered and choked. Elliott rushed to his side once he’d gotten over the initial shock of witnessing the scene in front of him.  
“Tav?” Hey you’re gonna be okay. It’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing his partner’s back lightly, though he was no longer sure if it was for Octavio’s comfort or his own.   
The younger legend fell sideways, his body weak and exhausted. Elliott hauled him into his arms, his brown eyes flaring with alarm as his boyfriend’s chest continued to heave unnaturally.   
“Baby, come on. You have to breathe, okay?” the trickster spoke, but it was more of a plea than a request. “You...you have to get better so we can go home!”  
He thought about carrying him to the ship but he couldn't get the speedster to budge. He tried to force him into a sitting position but Octavio’s smaller frame just slumped heavily against him. Tears were beginning to blur his vision, as he wrapped his arms protectively around his partner.   
“Please,” Elliott sobbed, pulling him closer, which only reminded him of how cold Octavio’s skin was. “P-please get better. I can’t...I can’t leave here without you.”

He thought he was going to get an answer when Octavio let out some sort of groan, only to enter another coughing fit. Elliott tried to lift him as he began to vomit again, spilling thick black liquid down his chin and onto his vest, but he felt too heavy to move. All he could do was cling to his lover and look on desperately as he howled out in pain, his back arching away from him. Those orange and yellow flares were returning, seeming to be buried under the speedster’s skin, causing his complexion to turn greyer, with every pulse.   
“No, no please!” the trickster screamed into the dark, preparing to bargain with whatever beings that might hear him. “I can’t live without you! Please, don’t leave me. I...I can’t go through this again! I’m not strong enough!”   
He held his partner tighter, quickly realising resistance and pleading were futile, as Octavio began to crumble under his hold; every part of him flaking away until he was nothing but a pile of ash at his knees, already being swept away by the breeze in the air. 

Elliott let out a series of almost breathless sobs, pulling his knees into his chest and burying his face in them. He didn’t realise he was being watched and approached until he felt the sharp bite of a metal hand on his shoulder, though he could barely bring himself to care about what would happen to him now.  
“You skinsuits are all the same,” came a low gravelly voice in his ear. “You never seem to learn the rules of the game. My game.”  
He could feel his blood run cold in his veins, as that tingling feeling from earlier soared up his arms and into his chest, feeling like it was setting his heart on fire.   
“What’s that saying?” the voice continued, it’s tone mocking. “Out with the old, in with the new. He got what he wanted, and in a way...you did too. He was such an easy target. But you…,” they paused, as if wanting his full attention on this moment.   
Elliott wanted to scream as he felt his body be taken over but his lips and jaw felt clamped together, no matter how hard he tried. The last thing he saw was the glistenings of yellow and orange flares, at the end of his now ashy coloured fingers, before his vision went black. 

“Yes...I think you will be much more fun.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't blame me, blame the ending of Don't Starve's adventure mode for inspiring this. /j


End file.
